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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23854990">Resolution</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietaria/pseuds/quietaria'>quietaria</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stella Glow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Post-Game, Spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:35:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23854990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietaria/pseuds/quietaria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bit by bit, Giselle carves out a place for herself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Resolution</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to a friend who gave me the prompt "write about Giselle attaining her humanity through small everyday lifestyle choices."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She stops by the market on Tuesdays after breakfast, when the competition for the freshest vegetables is the thinnest and supply is the most abundant. It takes her a month of hovering 300 feet in the air over Lambert's largest farmer's market before she can conclusively determine that, but Giselle is certain that she's acquiring the finest produce for her companions.</p><p>In the kitchen, she offers to prepare the food for them, having already calculated the best way to optimize the intake of nutrients, but for whatever reason, Alto usually waves her off with a smile.</p><p>"It's all good, Giselle," Alto says, gently pushing her out of the kitchen. "You did your part in buying the groceries, so we'll do the cooking."</p><p>"Is the food I cook not to everyone's liking?" Giselle asks, her brow furrowed.</p><p>"No, it tastes great, actually," Alto blinks. "Just, you know, the washing up afterwards is straight from hell."</p><p>Giselle cocks her head to the side, confused, but accepts Alto's decision to delegate her duties elsewhere, just like she did when they were in battle.</p><p>Elsewhere tends to vary depending on the day- sometimes Giselle stops by Veronica's laboratory to help organize the tempest of research documents strewn haphazardly all across the room, and silently acknowledges but does not respond to her feverish self-mutterings, still uncertain of what benefits verbal thought have over mental ones, but unwilling to risk Veronica screeching (in an oddly similar frequency to the modified angels once at her beck and call) and throwing her out for breaking her concentration.</p><p>Other days, she sizes up the many miles of walls surrounding Lambert and inspects them meticulously for cracks. Her eyes narrow as they home in on the imperfections responsible for protecting the city she, too, guards with every gear and screw in her mechanical body, and she goes to work immediately at patching them up. The townspeople glance to each other at the sound of furious whirring coming from outside the walls and breathe a sigh of relief when the rumbling comes with sparks of red flashing through the sky.</p><p>"It must be Giselle," they remark, and go on their merry way.</p><p>Her sensors are always active, honed on and for the battlefield. It doesn't translate as well to peace as Giselle would have liked, not when the sound of dogs barking is enough to send her into red alert- and there are approximately 0.745 dogs for each person in the capitol, she surmises. They sniff at her unusually shaped shadow and wag their tails at her as she stands motionlessly, inwardly struggling to reconcile the inherent danger of wild beasts with the creatures at her feet. <em>They are harmless, </em>she repeats to herself. <em>They have been domesticated and prove no threat to humans. The townspeople will be upset if I am to harm them or drive them away</em>.</p><p>It's the last thought that keeps Giselle hovering woodenly with her claws sheathed until the dogs amble back to their owners, who glance at her with a yet-difficult for her to identify emotion and tell her that being afraid of dogs is nothing to be ashamed of.</p><p>Afraid is not the word Giselle would use, but they pat her on the side of her arms in lieu of her pointed shoulders and usher their dogs away from her before she can elaborate.</p><p>There's much more that Giselle cannot help with than she can, and something, a bolt in disarray, perhaps, grinds in her chest when all she can do is stand aside for others to pick up the slack. She can't help Lisette with her stories, she can't wrangle the livestock as easily as Archibald can, she can't help Elmar with his speeches, she can't help Mordi paint murals over the newly renovated barracks- She was never built for this. Her master- her inner circuitry catches again, taut underneath the metal- created her as a weapon. And weapons, these days, hang like Alto's sword in a scabbard affixed to his wall rather than by his side.</p><p>This is the culmination of everything they fought for, including her. But where her place stands in the aftermath still evades her, fuzzy and indeterminate to her processing units. It- frustrates her? Giselle isn't sure- that she cannot find an answer.</p><p>"Giselle, there you are!" A slight figure weaves through the crowd and Marie stops before her, a bright smile on her face.</p><p>"Marie."</p><p>"I've been looking everywhere for you! Are you busy?"</p><p>"I am not currently occupied," Giselle says quietly and tries not to frown, wondering why her facial controls have started to fire without her intention.</p><p>"Yay! Let's go, then!" Marie tugs her hand along without paying any mind to its coldness.</p><p>"Where are we going?" Giselle asks, floating beside her.</p><p>"Rena and I are having a tea party! We want you to join us." Marie beams and her gait quickens to what Giselle thinks might be a skip.</p><p>"I cannot imbibe liquids."</p><p>"Imb...?" Marie tosses her a quizzical look. "I don't know what that means, but I know you can't eat or drink, Giselle!"</p><p>"It does mean to drink," Giselle affirms. "I do not understand. I cannot take part in your tea party if I am unable to drink tea."</p><p>"Of course you can," Marie says, looking even more puzzled. "You don't have to drink the tea to participate."</p><p>"I... do not... understand?" Giselle furrows her brow and diverts 90% of her processing power to comprehending.</p><p>"We just want you to be there," Marie says cheerfully.</p><p>"Is that sufficient?" Giselle asks in doubt. When Marie only curls her lips up higher and tugs at her hand with both of hers, she concedes despite her misgivings.</p><p>Giselle sits at Rena's workbench covered in a delicate lace tablecloth with the two of them and holds the cup of tea they insisted on pouring for her between her hands, listening quietly to their conversation. Rena pulls out her latest orb designs for Marie to admire, clapping her hands at how pretty they are, while Giselle nods at the marked improvements in their efficiency. The cake (in which Giselle does not partake lest the cream clog up her insides) vanishes at a startling rate, and Giselle wonders again if what Lisette said about girls having an extra stomach for dessert is true despite her knowledge of anatomy.</p><p>"Tea parties are so nice, aren't they?" Rena sighs contentedly, sipping from her cup.</p><p>The teacup is warm to the temperature sensors on her hands, and Giselle finds herself smiling faintly. "Yes."</p><p>"It's way more fun with you here, Giselle!" Marie kicks her legs happily underneath the table, which Giselle surmises from the sudden faint breeze brushing by her. "Even though it's already so much fun with just Rena and me."</p><p>"Is that true?" She hasn't done anything to make it <em>more fun</em>, as unquantifiable as Giselle finds the statement. </p><p>The girls nod fervently in unison.</p><p>"Even though I have not engaged in any actions to make it <em>more fun</em>?"</p><p>"You just have to be here, Giselle," Marie repeats. "That's all!"</p><p>"I... see." Giselle closes her eyes to process the new information. "There is value in merely having my presence nearby?" Just like Veronica's mumblings, the thought tumbles out from her mouth before she can stop herself.</p><p>"Yeah!"</p><p>"I will keep that in mind," she says slowly. <em>Something</em> starts to loosen in her chest.</p><p>"May I have more tea? Mine is starting to grow cold."</p><p>They switch out the contents of her cup, and somewhere in between her reflection and the wispy leaves of tea drifting along aimlessly, Giselle thinks she might see the beginnings of an answer.</p>
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